Lemon Juice
by Ariaprincess
Summary: Latvia is tired of being bossed around all the time by the big, mean, scary countries, like Mr. Russia. He has two options: have a heart to heart talk, or kill them. He chooses the latter. Rated T for violent themes, one shot.


Latvia placed another lemon between the jaws of the metal juicer, pulling the lever down so the juice trickled into the small bowl beneath it. The lemon was squeezed between the two metal plates, allowing the juice to flow, and leaving behind only a discarded shell, drained dry.

 _Stupid G8 meeting in California, stupid Mr. Russia "volunteering" me for refreshment duty, stupid lemonade, stupid rusty juicer!_

Sighing, Latvia picked up another lemon and sliced into it, watching as a few seeds fell out. He actually thought that this method of juicing was sort of barbaric, and the old fashioned juicer reminded him of a torture device. With a groan, he slipped the lemon half between the machine's two metal plates and pushed the lever down again, watching as the juice was pushed out of the fruit and into the bowl. Latvia discarded the lemon half and picked up the other, repeating the process once more. _How depressing.._. He thought, inspecting the dry lemon. He turned his attention back to the uncut lemons, picking up the knife once more.

For a second, his vision warped and twisted, and he was staring at miniature Russia heads instead of bright yellow orbs. With a grin, he positioned one of the Russia heads on the cutting board, and brought the knife down into it, splitting it in two. Red spilled across the plastic cutting board in a gruesome splash, and Latvia found himself laughing like a maniac. He cut another, and another, until the whole cutting board was drenched in red.

"Latvia? You've mutilated almost all the lemons in here. Be careful, okay? Mr. Russia will be upset if he finds lemon juice all over the counter."

Latvia turned to see Lithuania's head in the doorway, green orbs staring into violet. "Y-yes, Lithuania." He turned back to the cutting board, crestfallen. The hallucinations were just lemons, and now most of them were ruined, slashed into and covered in cuts. _Maybe I can still get some juice out of them,_ he thought, and placed one half into the juicer. Pulling the lever, he thought about the frightening hallucination.

 _What is wrong with me? I must be going insane..._

He squinched his eyes shut, muttering to himself.

 _Maybe if I close my eyes, they'll go away for good._

When he opened them again, all he saw was the thick red liquid that was currently dripping from the machine and clotting in the bowl below it.

 _Drip, drip, drip..._

He threw the juicer open, pleased to see a bloody mass crushed inside it. He pried it out with his fingers and tossed it aside, grabbing another half of a head. He stuffed it inside and pulled the lever down with all his might, watching the red trickle down, down, down. He grabbed his knife and another Russia head, stabbing the knife into the top of it. He pulled the knife downward, creating a clean cut dividing Russia's face almost perfectly in half, he sawed away, separating the two halves and plopping one in the juicer. He grabbed the handle and pulled it with the air of a mad scientist reviving a dead creature. The red gushed out, filling the bowl almost to the brim with the sweet red milk. Latvia stuck his finger underneath the dripping stream and caught a few drops on his finger, placing them into his mouth and sucking away with gusto. To his surprise, the blood tasted of lemon, and not of the metallic scent he was so familiar with.

"Little Latvia? Why are you tasting the lemon juice? You have not been adding any sugar yet, have you?"

Latvia was jolted out of his little fantasy by a large nose appearing in his field of vision. "N-no, Mr. Russia. Sorry, Mr. Russia."

"Well, hurry up and add the sugar. Everyone is waiting for you!" Russia smiled, patted Latvia on the head a few times, and rejoined the rest of the G8 in the living room. Latvia sighed, and grabbed the sugar bag from the counter beside the juicer.

 _You could poison it._

Latvia shook away the thought, grabbing the sugar and pouring it into the measuring cup.

 _You have the tools with you._

Latvia shakily reached inside his uniform coat and fumbled with the little paper packet taped inside there. He didn't know why he brought it, really, it was a stupid idea in the first place. He didn't know how or why he had it, only that somebody he didn't remember had given it to him, "in case things ever got too gory at Mr. Russia's place."

 _Let them suffer for once, let them be in pain!_

Latvia ripped the packet from underneath his coat and tore it open before he could think, sprinkling the contents into the lemonade and adding the sugar on top. He stirred, mixing the two white powders into the lemon juice and pouring that into the provided pitcher.

"Are you done?" Estonia entered the room, carrying a tray of cookies. Latvia set the jug on top of the tray and took it from him, smiling slightly. He entered the living room with a newfound confidence he had never experienced before.

 _Let them get their comeuppance..._

"The snacks are ready!"

 **AN: ...aaaaaaand this completely balances out the nice fluffy valentines day story I wrote yesterday. Not my best work...Eh, psychotic Latvia is fun to write. I REGRET NOTHING.**

 **The juicer Latvia uses in this story is simply designed. There are two metal plates, and a lever that controls the top plate.**

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


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